


Mirrored

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Sherlock finds that there's something to one old superstition after all.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Helen Stoner
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Mirrored

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



It was all John’s fault, of course. For some reason, the good doctor decided that Sherlock needed to socialize more, therefore he took it upon himself to arrange regular social events among the former clients that Sherlock respected. Since Baker Street was too small for most gatherings, it was up to a former client to host each event, but all of them were happy to do so, if only to meet others who had also needed the help of the Great Detective.

Sherlock found the gatherings agreeable even if he’d never admit it, but it wasn’t until Miss Helen Stoner started attending that he found them enjoyable.

The first time had been in early September 1890, three months after the case John had dubbed “The Adventure of the Speckled Band.” Newlyweds Percy and Annie Phelps were happy to host a dinner party at their home and everyone Sherlock cared to converse with was there – Miss Violet Hunter, Mrs. Elsie Cubit, Mrs. Violet Morton (nee Smith) and her husband, Mr. Melas, Mr. McFarlane, and Dr. Trevelyan.

When Mrs. Phelps said that they were waiting for one other person, Sherlock assumed it was Mr. Wilson and was very much surprised when Miss Stoner was announced. The young lady entered the parlor looking quite apprehensive but she soon relaxed as John introduced her to everyone.

Sherlock was, by habit, at the back of the parlor by the fireplace and therefore was the last one the two of them approached, John smirking and Miss Stoner smiling shyly.

“You remember Mr. Holmes, of course,” John said jovially.

“Yes, it’s wonderful to see you again, Mr. Holmes,” Miss Stoner said as she held out her hand.

“And you, Miss Stoner,” Sherlock said, grinning, as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I’ll let you two talk,” John said, grinning triumphantly, then he went over to talk shop with Dr. Trevelyan.

“Will you fiancé be joining us?” Sherlock asked.

“You haven’t heard – Mr. Armitage and I decided to call off the engagement.” She didn’t look particularly sad or happy about the outcome, merely resigned.

The deduction came instantly. “It was to be a marriage of convenience, mainly to get you away from your stepfather. With him gone, there was no longer a need.”

Miss Stoner nodded. “The parting was amicable. Mr. Armitage wants to wait now until he finds someone he can love.”

“And you?” Sherlock asked gently.

She shrugged helplessly. “After so many years of being under my stepfather’s thumb, I prefer being on my own. I have a flat on Marylebone Road and I spend my time doing charity work. While I still miss Julia dearly, I have found contentment.”

Some previously unknown part of him rebelled at the thought of Miss Stoner being alone for the rest of her life but he reined it in. “Contentment is hard to find, so I commend you for that, but it sounds as though you have given up on finding happiness.”

Miss Stoner sighed quietly. “Every happiness I have ever known has been taken from me, Mr. Holmes, so I have learned not to trust it. Contentment is something that can last.”

_She’s given up far too young._ He resolved to show her she deserved a chance at lasting happiness. That evening and at succeeding social events, they talked about their lives, his cases, anything that Sherlock could think of. Every time she laughed, he counted it as a victory, and every time she smiled at him, it went straight to his heart.

Of course, the others noticed. The seats at dinner were always arranged that Sherlock sat next to Miss Stoner. There were times when he would have preferred to spend the evening at home but John knew the way to ensure he would attend a gathering was to tell him that Miss Stoner would be there.

Occasionally, there would be a larger gathering with more than the usual former clients. Sherlock dreaded those since they usually meant plenty of young men vying for the attention of the single young ladies, Miss Stoner included. She was as polite as ever to them, but she only truly came alive with him. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that one day, some young man would sweep her off her feet.

On Halloween, the Mortons hosted a costume party. John went as a devil, which Sherlock thought was fitting since the man had bedeviled him about Miss Stoner for what felt like an eternity. Sherlock, though, refused to wear a costume and simply went in his usual black suit.

By the time he and John arrived, Miss Stoner was already there, dressed as a lady from the Regency Era and surrounded by eager young men, to the point where Sherlock couldn’t even get near her. That put him in, as John declared, a beastly mood, and he proceeded to brood (not sulk, certainly) in a corner. A thunderstorm rolled in and it perfectly matched the thundercloud above his head.

Mrs. Morton declared it was time for games – the young men would bob for apples and the young ladies would try to divine their future husbands using a candle and a mirror. Sherlock adamantly refused to bob for apples but he couldn’t help being fascinated by the young ladies’ game.

_Not that I believe in such superstitious nonsense. Still, it shows how suggestive an atmosphere like a Halloween party on a stormy night can be._

Miss Hunter, who was dressed as an angel, went first. She accepted the lit candle from Mrs. Morton then went into the small, darkened breakfast room and shut the door. A few minutes later, she came out grinning and announced that her future husband looked quite a bit like Dr. Watson. Sherlock smirked for the first time that night at his best friend’s pleased blush – he and Miss Hunter got on very well.

When it came time for Miss Stoner’s turn, she protested, albeit gently, that she never intended to marry. A devil on his shoulder told Sherlock to sneak into the breakfast room and ensure that, assuming the others did get her to play along, he would be the one she saw in the mirror. For once, he obeyed, and waited in the dark room for several minutes. The curtains were open but the only light came from the occasional flash of lightning.

Finally, the door opened and Miss Stoner came into the room, quickly closing the door behind her. The lit candle in her hand illuminated her face, a face Sherlock could admit he wanted to see first thing every morning, as she made her way over to the mirror on the far wall. As instructed, Miss Stoner passed the candle in front of the mirror three times before she gazed into it.

Seeing his chance, Sherlock silently made his way to her but before his reflection could show in the mirror, an image appeared in it, seemingly over Miss Stoner’s shoulder. She gasped and Sherlock had to hold himself back to keep from doing the same – the image was a perfect copy of him. It only lasted a moment before vanishing.

Miss Stoner’s expression crumpled and she set the candle on the nearby sideboard before falling to her knees, her face in her hands as she cried quietly. Sherlock was kneeling in front of her in a heartbeat.

“Miss Stoner,” he murmured, “please, do not distress yourself.”

She lifted her head to stare at him and when he reached for her, she flinched. “It was you,” she said quietly. “I saw you in the mirror but it was just a practical joke?”

“I’ll admit that I came in here to ensure you would see me, but I never intended it as a joke.”

“Then what did you intend, Mr. Holmes?” she asked, her voice cold but even in the light of the single candle, he could see her vulnerability and his heart ached.

“For you to think of me as the only man you would consider marrying,” he said as he removed a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her.

“ _Now_ you are joking,” she muttered as she accepted the handkerchief then dried her eyes. “Everyone knows you’re not the marrying kind, Mr. Holmes, and I have certainly given up on marriage.”

_She’s lying, at least about herself._ “Then why did you come in here?”

“Because Miss Hunter and Mrs. Morton insisted.”

“And why did you cry when you saw me?”

“Because I knew it had to be wrong.”

He reached out to gently take her hand. “It’s not. And no, I’m not lying and this is certainly not a joke.” He hesitated for a moment. “Miss Stoner … what you saw in the mirror wasn’t me.”

“But-”

“What I mean to say is that it was my image, but not my reflection.” He sighed quietly. “I certainly can’t explain it, it defies all logic, but it does mean that you and I are destined to marry.” When she could only stare at him in response, he smiled at her gently. “Will you at least give me a chance to court you?”

She nodded slowly.

His gaze fell to her lips. “Our friends are wondering what’s keeping us but before we join them, may I kiss you?” His eyes met hers and he held his breath in anticipation.

Miss Stoner smiled weakly. “Yes, Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock grinned as he gently pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly.


End file.
